Today was my weekly long run- two hours and five minutes. I run on Saturdays with Michael D'Addetta, and we run at a very moderate pace, but there's really no such thing as an easy two hour run.
So running for two hours during the cleanse ? As my coach suggested in his own blog, the cleanse does not turn your workouts into some kind of death march. During the week my workouts have been short-50 minutes or less as I'm in my recovery phase of the off season- but I've had good pickups and the workouts have all felt good- as has my pasta lunch afterwards.
I could tell the difference though. I usually run with either a bottle of gatorade or a cliff shot and for a two hour run I might normally take a cliff shot every 45 minutes or so. Today I took a bottle of Propel instead, which is like Gatorade's weak little brother.
It was cold this morning- my eyes starting watering when I got out of the car and we started running, and my water bottle tip kept icing up. But the run was never that hard, and I never felt like I didn't have the energy for it. It was just- harder. Especially climbing, which is kind of ironic because I've lost a number of pounds that ought to make hill climbing easier. It really was just a little bit more challenging, and nothing I couldn't handle.
I have a feeling that this was probably the hardest workout I'll have during the cleanse- my next long run will be on day fourteen, and I'll both have the advantage of my metabolism having fully adjusted and being on the last day of the cleanse and looking forward to a nice big breakfast- the type I usually only eat on Christmas and New Year's, that next day.
The bottom line- Eric's right. Your workouts don't have to suffer when your on the cleanse, you just have to dig a little deeper, and it's best to keep your effort moderated.
I'll still be glad to be able to have cheese again though.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Thursday, January 08, 2009
The Best Game Ever
I really will get on with my year end review, maybe Saturday afternoon when I'm on day seven of the cleanse. It's day five now and well, I'm more than a third of the way through and that's something...
Anyway, anyone who knows me well knows I am a big football fan- the pro variety, although I am watching the BCS championship game.
I'm in my early forties, and my dad was born in 1917. Although he died when I was eight, he did manage to install some of the game's history in that time. He was a Redskins fan, but he talked about the game, which I though really became something of interest to him in the late fifties. Unitas, Berry, Donovan were all names I knew and Frank Gifford was a football celebrity of course. And I started watching football in a way where I can remember it when I was four- the 1969 season, when the 1958 championship game was still a point of discussion.
But I've only seen photos and heard stories about this greatest of the great games. And after reading the first half of this book I already know more about Unitas, Berry, and Weeb than I did beforehand.
Bowden has a great way of capturing what the game was about, what these men were about, and he does it with a quick and easy style that makes the book a great page turner.
1958 is a long time ago- 50 seasons ago this year (the championship game was on December 28th, 1958). That's right, 50 years ago. If you sat through those 49er-Broncos Super Bowl blowouts and other easily forgotten lopsided snoozefest because you love the game, treat yourself to this book- you will not be disappointed.
Anyway, anyone who knows me well knows I am a big football fan- the pro variety, although I am watching the BCS championship game.
I'm in my early forties, and my dad was born in 1917. Although he died when I was eight, he did manage to install some of the game's history in that time. He was a Redskins fan, but he talked about the game, which I though really became something of interest to him in the late fifties. Unitas, Berry, Donovan were all names I knew and Frank Gifford was a football celebrity of course. And I started watching football in a way where I can remember it when I was four- the 1969 season, when the 1958 championship game was still a point of discussion.
But I've only seen photos and heard stories about this greatest of the great games. And after reading the first half of this book I already know more about Unitas, Berry, and Weeb than I did beforehand.
Bowden has a great way of capturing what the game was about, what these men were about, and he does it with a quick and easy style that makes the book a great page turner.
1958 is a long time ago- 50 seasons ago this year (the championship game was on December 28th, 1958). That's right, 50 years ago. If you sat through those 49er-Broncos Super Bowl blowouts and other easily forgotten lopsided snoozefest because you love the game, treat yourself to this book- you will not be disappointed.
Update on The Madoff Case
When I suggested not that long ago that Bernie Madoff belonged behind bars, I had no way of knowing how quickly I would be joined by people actually involved in the case.
In case you missed it, the prosecutors in the case are now calling for Madoff to be jailed. It appears that he and his wife sent millions of dollars worth of jewelry to family and friends over the holidays, adding an embarrassing exclamation point to the scandal.
His lawyer's response: "If he was found to be selling narcotics, if it's found that he threatened somebody, if it's found that he was fleeing the community, then I think your honor should consider new bail conditions," Sorkin told the judge Monday. "But that's not the case here."
However, if were found to say, have stolen billions of dollars and then tried hiding millions of dollars of what should become settlement money to help ease the economic devastation he caused ?
Again, let's stop with this nonsense that grand theft hedge fund is less of crime than simple battery. Crime = Crime. Let's leave it at that, and let's leave Bernie in jail.
In case you missed it, the prosecutors in the case are now calling for Madoff to be jailed. It appears that he and his wife sent millions of dollars worth of jewelry to family and friends over the holidays, adding an embarrassing exclamation point to the scandal.
His lawyer's response: "If he was found to be selling narcotics, if it's found that he threatened somebody, if it's found that he was fleeing the community, then I think your honor should consider new bail conditions," Sorkin told the judge Monday. "But that's not the case here."
However, if were found to say, have stolen billions of dollars and then tried hiding millions of dollars of what should become settlement money to help ease the economic devastation he caused ?
Again, let's stop with this nonsense that grand theft hedge fund is less of crime than simple battery. Crime = Crime. Let's leave it at that, and let's leave Bernie in jail.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Cleanse, Day Four
Margit and I started the Cleanse on Sunday, so for me, this is Day Four of the Cleanse, a two week nutrition plan that includes three meals and a mid-morning snack, plus 100 ounces of water.
It's an interesting change for me. No banana in the morning, no tuna and swiss cheese sandwich for lunch, no beer at night. I'd say the overall effect is that about 50% of what I usually eat and drink is off-limits, and the highlight of my day is some pasta with sauce at lunch right after my workout.
I can't say I like the cleanse. But I'm here, looking to get ten more days under my belt, and then-
-do my Sunday morning workout and have a big plate of scrambled eggs. With plenty of swiss cheese.
It's an interesting change for me. No banana in the morning, no tuna and swiss cheese sandwich for lunch, no beer at night. I'd say the overall effect is that about 50% of what I usually eat and drink is off-limits, and the highlight of my day is some pasta with sauce at lunch right after my workout.
I can't say I like the cleanse. But I'm here, looking to get ten more days under my belt, and then-
-do my Sunday morning workout and have a big plate of scrambled eggs. With plenty of swiss cheese.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Sunday, January 04, 2009
New Year's Review, Part I
I'm late doing this. It's already 2009 and here I am just getting around to looking at 2008.
This blog is primarily a place to keep a record of my training and racing. It might surprise you, given the ridiculous and exhaustive detail with which I catalog all my races- really, I need ten paragraph for a race that was 19 minutes long ?- that I've never kept any sort of training journal or record of my races. At the end of the first full year I worked with Eric, he asked me to send him an excel spreadsheet with all the races I could find that I'd done on it. I know I had more than 50 entries on the sheet and that was only what I could find on the internet.
Things change, as Troy Aikman would say.
This was a very unusual year for all of us. It's hard, when your 403B is melting faster than a snowpile along the shoreline, when the Middle East is burning again, when the value of the homes we live in decreases daily, when maybe your job hangs in the balance- you get the picture- to remember that this was an historic year in good ways as well. We had a woman and african-american running for one party's presidential nomination and we elected our first black president. Regardless of your politics, it was a monumental redefinition of our process, suggesting that we may finally, in the 21st century, be emerging as a cultural capable of dismantling the artificial barriers we've erected around the halls of power. Although as Prop 8 in California reminded us, for every two steps forward, we are perfectly capable of taking one back, that inclusivity at the individual level can be highly selective, that we can love and hate at the same time.
I'm never sure what's more perplexing about human nature, its generosity, or its penury of compassion.
I saw the better part of human nature yesterday. Eric has been holding a Polar Plunge now for five years to raise money for charity, starting with the tsunami victims- I can't believe it's been that long. It was cold yesterday- I ran for two hours in the morning, and the whole time I was wondering if the weather would deter people from coming. We've had worse- colder, darker days, but Eric made a change this year that was key- he held the plunge at high tide, instead of in the morning.
The truth is though, that if he held it at 4 AM I think he'd get just about the same turnout- Gus with the dog, Denny, Eric's dad on the camera, Baker there for moral support, plus dozens of others, all crazy enough to run into the nasty cold water of the Sound. Most of us only know the cause that the Plunge raises money for through Eric each year, but I think we're all happy to do it because a) Eric's a great guy, and anything he's willing to put himself out there to support has to be worth it- look at the tremendous work he's done helping to take Ride for Rick from an idea (his) to reality b) it feels good to do good. I think your soul or whatever you want to call it can be a dark and evil place and you would still get a charge out of reaching out to good for others in a group of like-minded people.
The fact that there was snow on the beach this year stopped no one, and if fact all I heard from anyone this time around was that 'it wasn't that bad.'
There were other good moments- and of course the Plunge was actually this year, but hey, it's my blog...
An American stood on the podium and took away eight gold medals. CSC finally, in their exit performance, won the Tour. We had a presidential election that was not marred by allegations of voter disenfranchisement. The nation finally seemed to get the message about 'green energy'.
I don't know. On balance, I'm glad to see 2009 come in, even though I've never been a big believer in arbitrary divisions of time really meaning anything, and we have a lot to see before we raise our hands and dance like we just don't care.
Oh yeah, I did a few races. More on that later.
This blog is primarily a place to keep a record of my training and racing. It might surprise you, given the ridiculous and exhaustive detail with which I catalog all my races- really, I need ten paragraph for a race that was 19 minutes long ?- that I've never kept any sort of training journal or record of my races. At the end of the first full year I worked with Eric, he asked me to send him an excel spreadsheet with all the races I could find that I'd done on it. I know I had more than 50 entries on the sheet and that was only what I could find on the internet.
Things change, as Troy Aikman would say.
This was a very unusual year for all of us. It's hard, when your 403B is melting faster than a snowpile along the shoreline, when the Middle East is burning again, when the value of the homes we live in decreases daily, when maybe your job hangs in the balance- you get the picture- to remember that this was an historic year in good ways as well. We had a woman and african-american running for one party's presidential nomination and we elected our first black president. Regardless of your politics, it was a monumental redefinition of our process, suggesting that we may finally, in the 21st century, be emerging as a cultural capable of dismantling the artificial barriers we've erected around the halls of power. Although as Prop 8 in California reminded us, for every two steps forward, we are perfectly capable of taking one back, that inclusivity at the individual level can be highly selective, that we can love and hate at the same time.
I'm never sure what's more perplexing about human nature, its generosity, or its penury of compassion.
I saw the better part of human nature yesterday. Eric has been holding a Polar Plunge now for five years to raise money for charity, starting with the tsunami victims- I can't believe it's been that long. It was cold yesterday- I ran for two hours in the morning, and the whole time I was wondering if the weather would deter people from coming. We've had worse- colder, darker days, but Eric made a change this year that was key- he held the plunge at high tide, instead of in the morning.
The truth is though, that if he held it at 4 AM I think he'd get just about the same turnout- Gus with the dog, Denny, Eric's dad on the camera, Baker there for moral support, plus dozens of others, all crazy enough to run into the nasty cold water of the Sound. Most of us only know the cause that the Plunge raises money for through Eric each year, but I think we're all happy to do it because a) Eric's a great guy, and anything he's willing to put himself out there to support has to be worth it- look at the tremendous work he's done helping to take Ride for Rick from an idea (his) to reality b) it feels good to do good. I think your soul or whatever you want to call it can be a dark and evil place and you would still get a charge out of reaching out to good for others in a group of like-minded people.
The fact that there was snow on the beach this year stopped no one, and if fact all I heard from anyone this time around was that 'it wasn't that bad.'
There were other good moments- and of course the Plunge was actually this year, but hey, it's my blog...
An American stood on the podium and took away eight gold medals. CSC finally, in their exit performance, won the Tour. We had a presidential election that was not marred by allegations of voter disenfranchisement. The nation finally seemed to get the message about 'green energy'.
I don't know. On balance, I'm glad to see 2009 come in, even though I've never been a big believer in arbitrary divisions of time really meaning anything, and we have a lot to see before we raise our hands and dance like we just don't care.
Oh yeah, I did a few races. More on that later.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Frosty 5K
Results can be found here: 2009 Frosty 5k
I got distracted while writing this by the Nightmare at 20,000 Feet episode of the Twilight Zone. That's one of two episodes featuring the man many of you may now know as Denny Crane, but watching this, what you see is basically the exact same acting Shatner brought to Star Trek. Which is there in Boston Legal, but you have to search a bit sometimes.
Anyway, it was cold and wind this morning and that plays into one of the few theories of racing I have. They are- you should know what you are going to wear, you should know what you are going to eat, and you should only be flexible if you are really wrong. That's because I think when you start hemming and hawing over what to wear (or eat), you open the door on regrets that will eat at you no matter what decision you make and you waste warm-up time thinking about something besides warming-up.
I went to the race with Steve Surprise, one of my teammates from Force 5. It was cold.
I was wearing two layers, heavy socks and racing flats. Racing flats and heavy socks do not go and my toes were numb from some combination of the cold and the circulatory deficiencies.
I was having trouble warming up. There was a lot of congestion at the starting line, and people were running around the green. Half the street was still under snow, the wind was blowing.
I knew somewhere during the race I'd be overheated, but so what ?
I talked to Chris Dickerson, JB (John Bysiewicz) and then did my strides. I stopped once to mention to Chris that he looked like he was feeling good and he said he did. They were slow. I felt like my tights were holding me back...
Finally, the race started. About 4 strides into the race, a guy off to my right- a big guy in tights and a bright green running jacket, pulled a hamstring. I watched him hop a stride or two and then turned my attention to my own sorry start. I was pulling hard to the right, straight at the turn, running on the snow because it was the shortest path but with a lot of bodies around me, a lot of young kids.
I got my feet clipped in the turn, but I was able to keep my feet as we turned the corner, and then headed past pages and towards the next turn. There was a surprising amount of congestion but most of the guys around me were shying away from the snow so I went right for it as that was the tightest path. Chris was by me, and we were running out towards the water- that's a damn long run, there were too many people in front of me, and I was not feeling good about how I was racing.
We were all holding back because the wind was at our back and we knew eventually we'd turn into it. I hit a mile at 5:46, which was- what's the opposite of blazing ?
I was in 7th or 8th, two guys my age including Chris and several younger guys in front of me, JB close behind. I never look back but I do take advantage of a turn around to evaluate who's close on, and I saw JB, Kerry. I saw Steve sooner than I expected and assumed he was racing well.
And then we were running into the wind. It hadn't been easy when we were running out of the wind. Into it was brutal. I passe three guys as we headed up and over the bridge. I was still- in my mind at least- chasing Chris. I made the first turn, then the second and the third and we were behind the fairgrounds. i got passed back by one of the guys I'd passed and dropped to fifth. I tried to keep him close as we ran on the snow covered road- the road was white and would be until we got back on 146.
Then we turned and were running along the fairground- the wind was directly in our face, there was a thicker snowcoat on the road and I seriously questioned whether I was running or just walking. But the guy in front of me wasn't going anywhere.
Finally, we made the turn back onto black asphalt and the run to the final turn seemed to take forever. I was not closing. We finally made the turn and I knew I wasn't catching the guy that was about two seconds in front of me. I hate the end of the race where I am totally gassed and the low hanging fruit is-
I stopped thinking and decided I had the better angle. He'd taken the turn wide and lined up the finish line, which was on the opposite side of the street. Just as Chris Dickerson and I had run on the opposite side of the yellow line going out, taking that shortest path, I drew a straighter line to the finish and then I accelerated and went by the other guy, not just taking the best line, but earning it- I went by him and there was no response at all.
Og course, this wasn't a sprint to win the race, or even my age group. I was a lowly fourth, a forgotten third in my age group. And once again I'd been outrun and outclassed by Chris Dickerson.
But I'd run hard, finished strong. I warmed down with Steve and JB and got to talk to JB and Jenny and then had an awesome brunch with Steve, Margit and Ian.
It was a great way to start the New Year.
I got distracted while writing this by the Nightmare at 20,000 Feet episode of the Twilight Zone. That's one of two episodes featuring the man many of you may now know as Denny Crane, but watching this, what you see is basically the exact same acting Shatner brought to Star Trek. Which is there in Boston Legal, but you have to search a bit sometimes.
Anyway, it was cold and wind this morning and that plays into one of the few theories of racing I have. They are- you should know what you are going to wear, you should know what you are going to eat, and you should only be flexible if you are really wrong. That's because I think when you start hemming and hawing over what to wear (or eat), you open the door on regrets that will eat at you no matter what decision you make and you waste warm-up time thinking about something besides warming-up.
I went to the race with Steve Surprise, one of my teammates from Force 5. It was cold.
I was wearing two layers, heavy socks and racing flats. Racing flats and heavy socks do not go and my toes were numb from some combination of the cold and the circulatory deficiencies.
I was having trouble warming up. There was a lot of congestion at the starting line, and people were running around the green. Half the street was still under snow, the wind was blowing.
I knew somewhere during the race I'd be overheated, but so what ?
I talked to Chris Dickerson, JB (John Bysiewicz) and then did my strides. I stopped once to mention to Chris that he looked like he was feeling good and he said he did. They were slow. I felt like my tights were holding me back...
Finally, the race started. About 4 strides into the race, a guy off to my right- a big guy in tights and a bright green running jacket, pulled a hamstring. I watched him hop a stride or two and then turned my attention to my own sorry start. I was pulling hard to the right, straight at the turn, running on the snow because it was the shortest path but with a lot of bodies around me, a lot of young kids.
I got my feet clipped in the turn, but I was able to keep my feet as we turned the corner, and then headed past pages and towards the next turn. There was a surprising amount of congestion but most of the guys around me were shying away from the snow so I went right for it as that was the tightest path. Chris was by me, and we were running out towards the water- that's a damn long run, there were too many people in front of me, and I was not feeling good about how I was racing.
We were all holding back because the wind was at our back and we knew eventually we'd turn into it. I hit a mile at 5:46, which was- what's the opposite of blazing ?
I was in 7th or 8th, two guys my age including Chris and several younger guys in front of me, JB close behind. I never look back but I do take advantage of a turn around to evaluate who's close on, and I saw JB, Kerry. I saw Steve sooner than I expected and assumed he was racing well.
And then we were running into the wind. It hadn't been easy when we were running out of the wind. Into it was brutal. I passe three guys as we headed up and over the bridge. I was still- in my mind at least- chasing Chris. I made the first turn, then the second and the third and we were behind the fairgrounds. i got passed back by one of the guys I'd passed and dropped to fifth. I tried to keep him close as we ran on the snow covered road- the road was white and would be until we got back on 146.
Then we turned and were running along the fairground- the wind was directly in our face, there was a thicker snowcoat on the road and I seriously questioned whether I was running or just walking. But the guy in front of me wasn't going anywhere.
Finally, we made the turn back onto black asphalt and the run to the final turn seemed to take forever. I was not closing. We finally made the turn and I knew I wasn't catching the guy that was about two seconds in front of me. I hate the end of the race where I am totally gassed and the low hanging fruit is-
I stopped thinking and decided I had the better angle. He'd taken the turn wide and lined up the finish line, which was on the opposite side of the street. Just as Chris Dickerson and I had run on the opposite side of the yellow line going out, taking that shortest path, I drew a straighter line to the finish and then I accelerated and went by the other guy, not just taking the best line, but earning it- I went by him and there was no response at all.
Og course, this wasn't a sprint to win the race, or even my age group. I was a lowly fourth, a forgotten third in my age group. And once again I'd been outrun and outclassed by Chris Dickerson.
But I'd run hard, finished strong. I warmed down with Steve and JB and got to talk to JB and Jenny and then had an awesome brunch with Steve, Margit and Ian.
It was a great way to start the New Year.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Why do we treat White Collar Criminals different ? Let's put Madoff in jail..
A few years ago, I took a white collar crime course at UNH, a precursor to my current (half-hearted) pursuit of a graduate degree.
I was struck not so much by how fraud is perpetrated- human nature being what it is, that's not so hard to understand. What amazes me is how our response is different for different types of crime.
Let's take the crazy man in the Philadelphia movie theatre who shot a man because his family was making too much noise during 'The Curious Case of benjamin Button'. He's been charged with every crime they could think of, which is not a bad thing. He took out a gun and shot a man because his children were talking over Brad Pitt. Story here No one is going say, 'Hey, that guy that walked into the theatre with a gun in his pants ? Let's make sure we don't set bail so high he can't get released.'
However, Bernard Madoff perpetrated a 50 BILLION dollar fraud. Charties have collapsed, one of his seed investors has committed suicide, and each day, another tale of woe is heard from individuals or organisations that have lost everything from their retirement money to 95 million dollars of their endowment (NYU).
Madoff is still living in his apartment and apparently walking around the streets of NYC, free on 10 million dollars bail. Why ?
I understand the legal system, and the importance of having a legal process. Bail is an important part of that process. But in cases of white collar crime it shocks me that we allow the defendant to use funds which are alleged to be ill-gotten and often are a direct result of the fraud they are charged with to affect their release from jail pending a hearing, as well as paying lawyers. It is true that assets are often seized as soon as charges are filed, but in this case Madoff has already confessed to committing the fraud, yet is using his own real estate as collateral for the release.
Given that he has indicated his guilt, why is he free on bond ? He should be sitting a jail somewhere, not walking around NYC with three of his homes as collateral. It's a given that those homes will eventually be sold to try and recover pennies or ha'-pennies on the dollar he stole from trusting investors.
That's right. This guy is a thief. He's like the guy that breaks into your house when you aren't home. Except instead of stealing your flat-screen TV and helping himself to your leftovers he steals your house, your 401K, your car, admits to it all, and then gets to walk around NYC while you try to get from one soul-crushing second to the next without killing yourself.
The common burglar probably doesn't make bail. The 50 BN (US) thief, makes bail and goes back to his swank apartment.
I'm not saying a judge should use his own prerogative to override the law. But I do think bail in white-collar cases needs to be reassessed.
Or I have a better idea. Let's stop calling it white-collar crime. Let's just call it crime ! And let's start treat people that steal 50 billion dollars worse than people that steal a car. I think Madoff's crime ought to viewed by our legal system as far worse than any other non-violent crime.
He should be in jail, suffering. Somewhere cold, damn, with lousy (but edible and adequately nutritious) food. He deserves no better. After all, he's not an accused thief. He's a confessed thief.
I was struck not so much by how fraud is perpetrated- human nature being what it is, that's not so hard to understand. What amazes me is how our response is different for different types of crime.
Let's take the crazy man in the Philadelphia movie theatre who shot a man because his family was making too much noise during 'The Curious Case of benjamin Button'. He's been charged with every crime they could think of, which is not a bad thing. He took out a gun and shot a man because his children were talking over Brad Pitt. Story here No one is going say, 'Hey, that guy that walked into the theatre with a gun in his pants ? Let's make sure we don't set bail so high he can't get released.'
However, Bernard Madoff perpetrated a 50 BILLION dollar fraud. Charties have collapsed, one of his seed investors has committed suicide, and each day, another tale of woe is heard from individuals or organisations that have lost everything from their retirement money to 95 million dollars of their endowment (NYU).
Madoff is still living in his apartment and apparently walking around the streets of NYC, free on 10 million dollars bail. Why ?
I understand the legal system, and the importance of having a legal process. Bail is an important part of that process. But in cases of white collar crime it shocks me that we allow the defendant to use funds which are alleged to be ill-gotten and often are a direct result of the fraud they are charged with to affect their release from jail pending a hearing, as well as paying lawyers. It is true that assets are often seized as soon as charges are filed, but in this case Madoff has already confessed to committing the fraud, yet is using his own real estate as collateral for the release.
Given that he has indicated his guilt, why is he free on bond ? He should be sitting a jail somewhere, not walking around NYC with three of his homes as collateral. It's a given that those homes will eventually be sold to try and recover pennies or ha'-pennies on the dollar he stole from trusting investors.
That's right. This guy is a thief. He's like the guy that breaks into your house when you aren't home. Except instead of stealing your flat-screen TV and helping himself to your leftovers he steals your house, your 401K, your car, admits to it all, and then gets to walk around NYC while you try to get from one soul-crushing second to the next without killing yourself.
The common burglar probably doesn't make bail. The 50 BN (US) thief, makes bail and goes back to his swank apartment.
I'm not saying a judge should use his own prerogative to override the law. But I do think bail in white-collar cases needs to be reassessed.
Or I have a better idea. Let's stop calling it white-collar crime. Let's just call it crime ! And let's start treat people that steal 50 billion dollars worse than people that steal a car. I think Madoff's crime ought to viewed by our legal system as far worse than any other non-violent crime.
He should be in jail, suffering. Somewhere cold, damn, with lousy (but edible and adequately nutritious) food. He deserves no better. After all, he's not an accused thief. He's a confessed thief.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Why Music Anyway - An East Coast Liberal Learns to Live with Nickleback
Today was a pretty decent day here in CT weather-wise if your goal was to get in a workout. It wasn't so good if you wanted a white christmas- amazing how almost all the snow was melted this morning.
We got up, opened stockings, had traditional breakfast, opened presents, took a Lathan-style walk, then took turns doing workouts and trying to enforce the nap time and zone. Pictures here
When it was my turn, I cranked up my iphone to Dark Horse. I wanted to do a sort of time-trial effort on the mountain bike on the Hammerfest bike course and then do a run that would take me on the Branford Road Race and Y Walk and Run courses.
I got off to a really good start, and had a really good workout. The two loops of the bike course were hard, the first one was faster than the second, and what seemed like a mild breeze at my back seemed like a strong headwind in my face- no doubt being on a 20 pound bike had something to do with that...
I got off the bike and started running, and I was running really well, and I was definitely into the music.
But I have to admit that enjoying Nickelback's music is a little embarrassing sometimes. I've always been pretty attuned to the lyrics in the music I listen to. While I can't listen to music that sound horrible just because the lyrics are awesome, I can get turned off to music with lyrics that really bother me. Yeah, Sweet Home Alabama is a great song, but the words, well, I just can't stand the lyrics.
The funny thing about Nickelback is that I love working out to the music. And the worst part of it is, that when they are at their drunkest, most debaucherous, and most mysonginistic is when the music is at its best. The lyrics are often sophomoric and seem to appeal to the 17 year old boy the band has got to be assuming is in all of us. Yet the song Burn it to the Ground is at its best at the point where the lyrics go 'No class, no taste, no shirt and shit-faced.' While Dark Horse is not entirely given over to this, the songs that have a higher value- Never Gonna Be Alone, especially- don't always carrying the same impact, and leave you having a sort of weird, metallic, scratchy-voiced Air Supply flashback.
There's nothing boastful about finding enjoyment in a song like Something in Your Mouth. And I couldn't help but think about how many people view music as uplifting, spiritual, something to help a person find contentment, even completeness. I get this- I can feel a little bit of that when I listen to Gregorian Chant, Ravi Shankar, even (forgive me) Alanis Morissette.
But something Yo Yo Ma was saying on public radio last night connected the dots for me as I was running. He was talking about how he dislikes CDs because they are a possession. They do not allow for a dialogue, but rather enforce a monologue. He's running a contest allowing you to participate in his music: by collaborative sampling of Dona Nobis Pacem.
And that's the thing. When I listen to Nickelback, or Nine Inch Nails (whose lyrics are far more complex) and other bands making those kinds of music, I am establishing a two way dialogue. This is loud, in your face music. these people are shouting at me, and I'm shouting right back, not with my mouth (unless you hear me singing along), but with my legs and arms. What draws me to Nickelback isn't the women-as-sex-objects or let's drink ourselves stupid lyrics, it's the balls to the wall energy and emotion.
I'm not a highly talented athlete. I work hard, I try to race hard. And this music, well, it puts me in that emotional/physical space I need to be in. It's a tool.
Yes, I enjoy the music. Even if the lyrics rub me the wrong way, I do enjoy the music.
And there's nothing wrong with that. For all the right reasons...
We got up, opened stockings, had traditional breakfast, opened presents, took a Lathan-style walk, then took turns doing workouts and trying to enforce the nap time and zone. Pictures here
When it was my turn, I cranked up my iphone to Dark Horse. I wanted to do a sort of time-trial effort on the mountain bike on the Hammerfest bike course and then do a run that would take me on the Branford Road Race and Y Walk and Run courses.
I got off to a really good start, and had a really good workout. The two loops of the bike course were hard, the first one was faster than the second, and what seemed like a mild breeze at my back seemed like a strong headwind in my face- no doubt being on a 20 pound bike had something to do with that...
I got off the bike and started running, and I was running really well, and I was definitely into the music.
But I have to admit that enjoying Nickelback's music is a little embarrassing sometimes. I've always been pretty attuned to the lyrics in the music I listen to. While I can't listen to music that sound horrible just because the lyrics are awesome, I can get turned off to music with lyrics that really bother me. Yeah, Sweet Home Alabama is a great song, but the words, well, I just can't stand the lyrics.
The funny thing about Nickelback is that I love working out to the music. And the worst part of it is, that when they are at their drunkest, most debaucherous, and most mysonginistic is when the music is at its best. The lyrics are often sophomoric and seem to appeal to the 17 year old boy the band has got to be assuming is in all of us. Yet the song Burn it to the Ground is at its best at the point where the lyrics go 'No class, no taste, no shirt and shit-faced.' While Dark Horse is not entirely given over to this, the songs that have a higher value- Never Gonna Be Alone, especially- don't always carrying the same impact, and leave you having a sort of weird, metallic, scratchy-voiced Air Supply flashback.
There's nothing boastful about finding enjoyment in a song like Something in Your Mouth. And I couldn't help but think about how many people view music as uplifting, spiritual, something to help a person find contentment, even completeness. I get this- I can feel a little bit of that when I listen to Gregorian Chant, Ravi Shankar, even (forgive me) Alanis Morissette.
But something Yo Yo Ma was saying on public radio last night connected the dots for me as I was running. He was talking about how he dislikes CDs because they are a possession. They do not allow for a dialogue, but rather enforce a monologue. He's running a contest allowing you to participate in his music: by collaborative sampling of Dona Nobis Pacem.
And that's the thing. When I listen to Nickelback, or Nine Inch Nails (whose lyrics are far more complex) and other bands making those kinds of music, I am establishing a two way dialogue. This is loud, in your face music. these people are shouting at me, and I'm shouting right back, not with my mouth (unless you hear me singing along), but with my legs and arms. What draws me to Nickelback isn't the women-as-sex-objects or let's drink ourselves stupid lyrics, it's the balls to the wall energy and emotion.
I'm not a highly talented athlete. I work hard, I try to race hard. And this music, well, it puts me in that emotional/physical space I need to be in. It's a tool.
Yes, I enjoy the music. Even if the lyrics rub me the wrong way, I do enjoy the music.
And there's nothing wrong with that. For all the right reasons...
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
USATF Amends Headphone Rule
INDIANAPOLIS - USA Track & Field has amended Rule 144.3, which pertains to the use of headphones and other electronic devices, to enable race directors to choose to allow the use of headphones by runners in non-championship races.
Approved at USATF's 2008 Annual Meeting held earlier this month in Reno, the rule now reads:"The following shall be considered assistance and therefore not allowed:
"(f) The visible possession or use by athletes of video, audio, or communications devices in the competition area. The Games Committee for an LDR event may allow the use of portable listening devices not capable of receiving communication; however, those competing in Championships for awards, medals, or prize money may not use such devices."
The rule previously had banned the use of headphones by all runners. While headphones remain banned for any athlete competing in a USA Championship, they may be allowed by race directors in other circumstances, at the discretion of each race director.
Enforcement of the previous ban was in the hands of race directors, with some enforcing the ban, some simply urging runners not to use headphones and others not enforcing it. Rooted in a concern for athlete and volunteer safety, the rule had drawn passionate feedback from all sides, including from runners who hated the rule and runners who loved it; from volunteers who had seen the logistical difficulties of having participants wearing headphones; and from race directors who supported it and others who had had encountered logistical difficulties enforcing it.
"The difficulty in enforcement was part of the reasoning," USATF Rules Committee chair John Blackburn said. "However, several good-sized races have demonstrated that they were able to enforce the rule. There were strong opinions on all sides of this discussion, both understanding the issues related to athlete safety, race organization, difficulty of enforcement. This resolution appeared to be the best position for USATF overall."
Approved at USATF's 2008 Annual Meeting held earlier this month in Reno, the rule now reads:"The following shall be considered assistance and therefore not allowed:
"(f) The visible possession or use by athletes of video, audio, or communications devices in the competition area. The Games Committee for an LDR event may allow the use of portable listening devices not capable of receiving communication; however, those competing in Championships for awards, medals, or prize money may not use such devices."
The rule previously had banned the use of headphones by all runners. While headphones remain banned for any athlete competing in a USA Championship, they may be allowed by race directors in other circumstances, at the discretion of each race director.
Enforcement of the previous ban was in the hands of race directors, with some enforcing the ban, some simply urging runners not to use headphones and others not enforcing it. Rooted in a concern for athlete and volunteer safety, the rule had drawn passionate feedback from all sides, including from runners who hated the rule and runners who loved it; from volunteers who had seen the logistical difficulties of having participants wearing headphones; and from race directors who supported it and others who had had encountered logistical difficulties enforcing it.
"The difficulty in enforcement was part of the reasoning," USATF Rules Committee chair John Blackburn said. "However, several good-sized races have demonstrated that they were able to enforce the rule. There were strong opinions on all sides of this discussion, both understanding the issues related to athlete safety, race organization, difficulty of enforcement. This resolution appeared to be the best position for USATF overall."
Saturday, December 20, 2008
The Big Snow
We got a 'big snow' yesterday, which means that we had about 28 hours straight of one form of precipitation or another. But the heavy stuff fell between noon and five and we ended up with about 6 inches of snow and the rest of what fell was a weird spritz of rain, sleet, freezing rain and mix that added no accumulation.
For here, that's a big deal, although in Rochester, where I last lived prior to Branford, you could get 6 inches of snow and they might not even send you home early.
I like running in the snow, and I was planning to run this morning with one of my teammates, Michael D'Adetta at 9. He emailed Friday to ask if we were still on and I said yes.
I got up early but didn't want to shovel before the long run, which was a mistake. Margit decided not to leave the driveway for me when I got back. We'd shoveled once yesterday, but it was a lot of work and I felt bad that she'd felt compelled to do it while I was getting my workout.
Michael and I ran for a little over 1:20 and I added another 11 or 12 minutes on each side. The traffic while we were out there was some of the heaviest traffic I've ever seen, which added an unwanted complexity to what was an otherwise enjoyable run.
What's interesting about snow running is what a good workout it is. Your legs really have to work hard because you get the solid plant-energy return-stride equation. You can't baby your style, but you also just don't get the push off on each stride and it makes for a lot of work. Climbing hills is an extra challenge.
But while it's harder, it's not really hard. People always talk about slipping and falling, but when you're used to running in the snow, that's not really an issue. I'm mostly worried about cars sliding and hitting me.
Even though it was sleeting or something when we were running, it was an awesome day for a run, a great workout, and except for wishing I'd shoveled the driveway beforehand, no regrets.
I'll still take 80 and humid any day. Or rather most days. Not today, and not for while. Turns out I like running in the snow.
For here, that's a big deal, although in Rochester, where I last lived prior to Branford, you could get 6 inches of snow and they might not even send you home early.
I like running in the snow, and I was planning to run this morning with one of my teammates, Michael D'Adetta at 9. He emailed Friday to ask if we were still on and I said yes.
I got up early but didn't want to shovel before the long run, which was a mistake. Margit decided not to leave the driveway for me when I got back. We'd shoveled once yesterday, but it was a lot of work and I felt bad that she'd felt compelled to do it while I was getting my workout.
Michael and I ran for a little over 1:20 and I added another 11 or 12 minutes on each side. The traffic while we were out there was some of the heaviest traffic I've ever seen, which added an unwanted complexity to what was an otherwise enjoyable run.
What's interesting about snow running is what a good workout it is. Your legs really have to work hard because you get the solid plant-energy return-stride equation. You can't baby your style, but you also just don't get the push off on each stride and it makes for a lot of work. Climbing hills is an extra challenge.
But while it's harder, it's not really hard. People always talk about slipping and falling, but when you're used to running in the snow, that's not really an issue. I'm mostly worried about cars sliding and hitting me.
Even though it was sleeting or something when we were running, it was an awesome day for a run, a great workout, and except for wishing I'd shoveled the driveway beforehand, no regrets.
I'll still take 80 and humid any day. Or rather most days. Not today, and not for while. Turns out I like running in the snow.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Christopher Martins 5K Road Race
Well, here I am, sitting watching the Patriots game. My shins and calves are sore, my season is finally, pretty much unquestionably, over.
Last year, I ran a 17:45, and was 10th in my age group, according to the race results. It's funny, I went into today's race thinking I'd run a 17:39 last year.
It was cold- really cold, and with a sharp wind. I was wearing racing shoes, and I couldn't get my feet to warm up at all, which meant that my calves, at the far back end of a long season, got more, and not less sore as I warmed up. I was a little concerned. I know how this race is- you have to run pretty hard in the first mile, run to that turn-around, like you really mean it, or you will be out of the race by the mile mark.
They had one of the personalities from Channel 8 there and after some pleasantries, he handed the microphone over to the MC and he started the race instructions with "We'll be counting down from 5."
The was a wheelchair athlete in front of the rest of the start, and we assumed they'd be starting him off before the rest of us, so we were unprepared for the next thing which the MC said, which was "4".
At two the wheelchair athlete attempted to haul ass, but unfortunately it takes longer for him to get started than for us, and I have a feeling he got engulfed at the start.
The start goes down State Street, pretty much all of it, so there are a lot of people that surge out early. Like most well attended 5Ks- over 1500 people- there were a LOT of people who ran by me early, and I was fighting just to stay in the race, or at least that is what it felt like. On my right was some guy who had to be in his fifties, then Yemisi ran by me. That actually made me relax a little. Yemisi is fast, but she goes out really hard and usually if she goes out and passes me in the first half mile then I'm in good shape pace-wise, and I'll be able to pass her back before the mile mark.
As we ran down the street, I started to lose contact with he lead group. This was expected, yet still ever so slightly frustrating. I wanted to finish top twenty, and so many people in front of me, but I was also passing people.
Just before we turned, someone clipped my feet. Then hit my elbow. Then tried to go inside me on the right. I knew the four people coming up on me were going to end up running faster, but I don't like having my feet clipped that late in a race- nearly a mile- I don't like being bumped- so I accelerated and made that corner and the next one before I let anyone by.
Once you make it around those two corners, it's one hell of a long way the other direction.
But a little adventure first. We hit the mile marker and the woman at the marker said '5:07'. I said, very loudly, 'Holy Sh!t !'
Brian Talon was good enough to say 'She's wrong, it's 5:30.' I was profoundly grateful to Brian, because 5:07 ? That would have probably been a disaster-inducing meltdown.
The second mile is just hard. You run, and run, and run, and you just never get to the turn. There were people all along the way, cheering, and that was great, I needed it. I was struggling, or felt like I was struggling, although I was neither passing nor being passed. I think maybe two people passed me in the second mile. You reach that mile marker and you're still running in the same direction. You finally see the lead people turn and that turn looks like it's a forever from where you are.
I made the turn, following four guys, all of whom would gap me a little bit. We wound our way through a set of short turns and then we were headed towards the unlit 'Mezcal' sign. And finally we were back on Main Street, headed towards the finish line. I could see the cones, but not the Christopher Martins awnings. The guys in front of me just weren't coming back to me.
And then I saw the clock, partially hidden. I could see the 17: but not the seconds. Bogus for me. I thought I had plenty of time to finish under 18:00, but who knew, so I gave it everything I had until i had crossed both mats.
17:43. Two seconds better than last year. 22nd overall, 4 places higher than last year and 4th out of 204 in my age group.
I guess I have nothing to complain about. I certainly didn't knock it out of the park, but it was another solid race, another race that was faster than last year, and I had a good time hanging out with friends after the race.
No, nothing to complain about at all.
Last year, I ran a 17:45, and was 10th in my age group, according to the race results. It's funny, I went into today's race thinking I'd run a 17:39 last year.
It was cold- really cold, and with a sharp wind. I was wearing racing shoes, and I couldn't get my feet to warm up at all, which meant that my calves, at the far back end of a long season, got more, and not less sore as I warmed up. I was a little concerned. I know how this race is- you have to run pretty hard in the first mile, run to that turn-around, like you really mean it, or you will be out of the race by the mile mark.
They had one of the personalities from Channel 8 there and after some pleasantries, he handed the microphone over to the MC and he started the race instructions with "We'll be counting down from 5."
The was a wheelchair athlete in front of the rest of the start, and we assumed they'd be starting him off before the rest of us, so we were unprepared for the next thing which the MC said, which was "4".
At two the wheelchair athlete attempted to haul ass, but unfortunately it takes longer for him to get started than for us, and I have a feeling he got engulfed at the start.
The start goes down State Street, pretty much all of it, so there are a lot of people that surge out early. Like most well attended 5Ks- over 1500 people- there were a LOT of people who ran by me early, and I was fighting just to stay in the race, or at least that is what it felt like. On my right was some guy who had to be in his fifties, then Yemisi ran by me. That actually made me relax a little. Yemisi is fast, but she goes out really hard and usually if she goes out and passes me in the first half mile then I'm in good shape pace-wise, and I'll be able to pass her back before the mile mark.
As we ran down the street, I started to lose contact with he lead group. This was expected, yet still ever so slightly frustrating. I wanted to finish top twenty, and so many people in front of me, but I was also passing people.
Just before we turned, someone clipped my feet. Then hit my elbow. Then tried to go inside me on the right. I knew the four people coming up on me were going to end up running faster, but I don't like having my feet clipped that late in a race- nearly a mile- I don't like being bumped- so I accelerated and made that corner and the next one before I let anyone by.
Once you make it around those two corners, it's one hell of a long way the other direction.
But a little adventure first. We hit the mile marker and the woman at the marker said '5:07'. I said, very loudly, 'Holy Sh!t !'
Brian Talon was good enough to say 'She's wrong, it's 5:30.' I was profoundly grateful to Brian, because 5:07 ? That would have probably been a disaster-inducing meltdown.
The second mile is just hard. You run, and run, and run, and you just never get to the turn. There were people all along the way, cheering, and that was great, I needed it. I was struggling, or felt like I was struggling, although I was neither passing nor being passed. I think maybe two people passed me in the second mile. You reach that mile marker and you're still running in the same direction. You finally see the lead people turn and that turn looks like it's a forever from where you are.
I made the turn, following four guys, all of whom would gap me a little bit. We wound our way through a set of short turns and then we were headed towards the unlit 'Mezcal' sign. And finally we were back on Main Street, headed towards the finish line. I could see the cones, but not the Christopher Martins awnings. The guys in front of me just weren't coming back to me.
And then I saw the clock, partially hidden. I could see the 17: but not the seconds. Bogus for me. I thought I had plenty of time to finish under 18:00, but who knew, so I gave it everything I had until i had crossed both mats.
17:43. Two seconds better than last year. 22nd overall, 4 places higher than last year and 4th out of 204 in my age group.
I guess I have nothing to complain about. I certainly didn't knock it out of the park, but it was another solid race, another race that was faster than last year, and I had a good time hanging out with friends after the race.
No, nothing to complain about at all.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Ironman Hawaii Coverage
One of the athletes profiled this year presents the enigma of sports. This is a man who is at the peak of his very demanding profession, and he made it clear that he feels going out and competing in the Ironman puts him alongside 'the best athletes in the world.'
He also said that he 'hates to run, hates to bike, and hates to swim.'
I guess I can understand that, sort of. I can't say I still hate to swim, but I know there was a time I did. As I (slowly) get better, I hate it less.
But still- he hates all three sports- and he's racing Kona ?
Now that's dedication to an idea....
He also said that he 'hates to run, hates to bike, and hates to swim.'
I guess I can understand that, sort of. I can't say I still hate to swim, but I know there was a time I did. As I (slowly) get better, I hate it less.
But still- he hates all three sports- and he's racing Kona ?
Now that's dedication to an idea....
Friday, December 12, 2008
Advice
I just want to say thanks- although he'll probably never see it- to Chris, who was in the LA Fitness today in the lane next to me and took the time to deconstruct the two problems with my stroke in record time.
He was dead right, my pull, just changed to something like a swimmer's, is still too short, and I don't kick enough, and these are things that I'm working on. But Margit drew the straight line that I was thinking about as well when I was in the pool after Chris took time out of his workout to help me.
My problems stem from my awkwardness in the water. Much like the strength training session last Sunday, my biggest issue in the water isn't lack of strength, my short stature, or my lack of experience as a swimmer. It's just a general lack of coordinated action.
As Margit said, 'I generally think of you as the opposite of someone who has coordination problems.'
Practice. And not just practice, but practice of good form. There's a reason I can throw a tight spiral but still struggle in the pool. One I've done thousands of time from the time I was old enough to hold a ball. The other- still learning.
It's funny. I'm 43, and I have to admit to myself that I need to learn something that's simple and basic to thousands of people- that I'm the swimming equivalent of the guy who can't throw a spiral, or in a straight-line for that point, and that I need to discover basic coordination in the water.
He was dead right, my pull, just changed to something like a swimmer's, is still too short, and I don't kick enough, and these are things that I'm working on. But Margit drew the straight line that I was thinking about as well when I was in the pool after Chris took time out of his workout to help me.
My problems stem from my awkwardness in the water. Much like the strength training session last Sunday, my biggest issue in the water isn't lack of strength, my short stature, or my lack of experience as a swimmer. It's just a general lack of coordinated action.
As Margit said, 'I generally think of you as the opposite of someone who has coordination problems.'
Practice. And not just practice, but practice of good form. There's a reason I can throw a tight spiral but still struggle in the pool. One I've done thousands of time from the time I was old enough to hold a ball. The other- still learning.
It's funny. I'm 43, and I have to admit to myself that I need to learn something that's simple and basic to thousands of people- that I'm the swimming equivalent of the guy who can't throw a spiral, or in a straight-line for that point, and that I need to discover basic coordination in the water.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
5K Training
Tuesday, I was back on a coached plan, and found myself on a treadmill doing five 90 second race-pace efforts in the middle of a 45 run.
I think this is good prep for a 5K. You have to, early in the week, remind yourself that you are going to be do something intense come race time. Ever time I've run a 5K this year- and there's only been a few, it's been a wake-up call as to how far away from that kind of effort I've trained- with good reason.
I'm not a 5K runner. I'm twenty pounds heavier than when I ran track, at least ten pounds heavier than when I ran 5ks every weekend. I'm old.
But I was trying to work the treadmill, trying to visualize myself on the Christopher Martin race course as I ran each effort, visualizing a different part of the course and trying to image myself running as faster as I am humanly possible of running. I've never been one for visualization or any other psychological methods of either training or racing, but hey, I don't have speed, so maybe I can trick myself in to pulling an impossible effort out of- thin air.
When I finished Florida, I wanted to immediately start focusing on this one last 5K. I really want to run well on this super-flat and fairly course just once.
But after having other good races along the way, it's not quite such a burning desiring at the moment, and maybe that will help. Having a good Nutmegman (thanks, Mandy !) took pressure off me to have a good Florida, and for the most part I did. Maybe stealing a win in a small cross-country race takes some of the pressure off having a good Christopher Martin, and I hope so, because the only one putting that pressure on me is me....
I think this is good prep for a 5K. You have to, early in the week, remind yourself that you are going to be do something intense come race time. Ever time I've run a 5K this year- and there's only been a few, it's been a wake-up call as to how far away from that kind of effort I've trained- with good reason.
I'm not a 5K runner. I'm twenty pounds heavier than when I ran track, at least ten pounds heavier than when I ran 5ks every weekend. I'm old.
But I was trying to work the treadmill, trying to visualize myself on the Christopher Martin race course as I ran each effort, visualizing a different part of the course and trying to image myself running as faster as I am humanly possible of running. I've never been one for visualization or any other psychological methods of either training or racing, but hey, I don't have speed, so maybe I can trick myself in to pulling an impossible effort out of- thin air.
When I finished Florida, I wanted to immediately start focusing on this one last 5K. I really want to run well on this super-flat and fairly course just once.
But after having other good races along the way, it's not quite such a burning desiring at the moment, and maybe that will help. Having a good Nutmegman (thanks, Mandy !) took pressure off me to have a good Florida, and for the most part I did. Maybe stealing a win in a small cross-country race takes some of the pressure off having a good Christopher Martin, and I hope so, because the only one putting that pressure on me is me....
Strength Training Session
My coach, Eric Hodska held the first of three strength training sessions on Sunday morning at his house and it was great.
I'm like most endurance athletes. Ask me about strength training and I'll tell you I think it's really important. Ask me if do much of it and I'll say "Well..." I actually think last year I did a fair amount, but that's a fair amount for me, which equates to not enough.
When Eric announced that he'd be holding these sessions, I decided right away that I should go. I have a bigger goal next year than I've ever had- you read it here first- a 9:59:59 Ironman. Can I get there ? Who knows ? Can I get there without strength training ?
NO.
So on Sunday morning I hopped in the car and drove in the year's first snow down to Trumbull. Let me say right off that Eric did a great job with this. There were six of us there including two of my Force Five Sports teammates, and Eric had been planning on having us do some of the training exercises in his back yard. He easily adapted to the snowy conditions and never missed a beat.
I'm not going to go into the details of what Eric did or rationale for it, but I will say this. Eric did a great job of first laying out what the endurance athlete should be trying to accomplish with a strength training program, what constitutes good and not so good types of exercises and how form and function go together. He struck a good balance between educating the group and evaluating the individuals, and I think we all left with four giant sets worth of exercises that are really going to target important areas for the endurance athletes we are, but with a better understanding of good technique and form.
I also had to admit that while I'm normally a pretty coordinated individual, I have a walk and chew gum sort of problem. Any exercise that requires me to move my upper and lower body in different directions at the same time creates an instant problem. You want to laugh ? Ask me to do lunges some time. I can throw a football across my body running full speed, spike a volleyball (college women's net), but I can't swing my arms up while throwing my foot forward and down. Go figure. I was the klutziest person there.
Which was okay. Practice makes, if not perfect, at least passable.
Look at my swimming...
Thanks, Eric- great session. Hope some of you reading this get the opportunity to attend one of his sessions.
I'm like most endurance athletes. Ask me about strength training and I'll tell you I think it's really important. Ask me if do much of it and I'll say "Well..." I actually think last year I did a fair amount, but that's a fair amount for me, which equates to not enough.
When Eric announced that he'd be holding these sessions, I decided right away that I should go. I have a bigger goal next year than I've ever had- you read it here first- a 9:59:59 Ironman. Can I get there ? Who knows ? Can I get there without strength training ?
NO.
So on Sunday morning I hopped in the car and drove in the year's first snow down to Trumbull. Let me say right off that Eric did a great job with this. There were six of us there including two of my Force Five Sports teammates, and Eric had been planning on having us do some of the training exercises in his back yard. He easily adapted to the snowy conditions and never missed a beat.
I'm not going to go into the details of what Eric did or rationale for it, but I will say this. Eric did a great job of first laying out what the endurance athlete should be trying to accomplish with a strength training program, what constitutes good and not so good types of exercises and how form and function go together. He struck a good balance between educating the group and evaluating the individuals, and I think we all left with four giant sets worth of exercises that are really going to target important areas for the endurance athletes we are, but with a better understanding of good technique and form.
I also had to admit that while I'm normally a pretty coordinated individual, I have a walk and chew gum sort of problem. Any exercise that requires me to move my upper and lower body in different directions at the same time creates an instant problem. You want to laugh ? Ask me to do lunges some time. I can throw a football across my body running full speed, spike a volleyball (college women's net), but I can't swing my arms up while throwing my foot forward and down. Go figure. I was the klutziest person there.
Which was okay. Practice makes, if not perfect, at least passable.
Look at my swimming...
Thanks, Eric- great session. Hope some of you reading this get the opportunity to attend one of his sessions.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Wintery Mix
I got to run for the first time this season in a combination of snow and sleet this morning for 75 minutes.
It's been a good weekend. I won a race yesterday and was rewarded for driving straight from the race to the Eli Whitney museum where my son and wife were playing with trains and my son gave me a kiss on the cheek as soon as he saw me, which oddly was very touching. We survived some Black Friday shopping. Our outside lights are outside and lit. Good workouts. Time on Thanksgiving with family.
Our new cat is settled in.
But this morning's run was also a nice little high point. I ran with Michael, and as I swung by the club and he joined the run, it was getting slippery. The sleet was pelting down, a little bit painful at times. The sound of it on the leaves was awesome. There is nothing quite like listening to sleet coming down on dried out leaves.
It wasn't exactly storm and it's not like running in heavy snow. But it's nice to get that first winter run under your belt, have it be a good solid effort- and not end up on your face or your ass.
It's been a good weekend. I won a race yesterday and was rewarded for driving straight from the race to the Eli Whitney museum where my son and wife were playing with trains and my son gave me a kiss on the cheek as soon as he saw me, which oddly was very touching. We survived some Black Friday shopping. Our outside lights are outside and lit. Good workouts. Time on Thanksgiving with family.
Our new cat is settled in.
But this morning's run was also a nice little high point. I ran with Michael, and as I swung by the club and he joined the run, it was getting slippery. The sleet was pelting down, a little bit painful at times. The sound of it on the leaves was awesome. There is nothing quite like listening to sleet coming down on dried out leaves.
It wasn't exactly storm and it's not like running in heavy snow. But it's nice to get that first winter run under your belt, have it be a good solid effort- and not end up on your face or your ass.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Cow Chip 6K Cross Country Race
I left late for the race, which is often a good think for me when I'm driving. I jacked up the Nickelback and drove from my house to Trumbull in 25 minutes. A good exhilarating drive gets me going in the morning, and this was a nice, safe, but fast ride.
I warmed up with Charlie Hornak, stripped down to my EH gear, and did my strides between the starting line and the goal post- which we are required to pass under. The middle of the football field was pretty muddy, and the mud was about half-frozen. That is a recipe for slipping, so I did quite a few passes at race speed to get my line. I like using picking a line as a warm-up. It keeps me from getting nervous, allows me to do my warm-up, and hopefully gets me off to a good start.
The race started out and it was a typical scrum, some kids that had no business firing out of the blocks at the front, the high school kids that are legitimate working together, and a few older guys like me trying to hang in with the main pack. I was right on the shoulder of the kid I thought looked like the biggest threat. I got the the exact line I wanted- I had to turn my upper body to get my right shoulder clear of the goalpost- basically using it to scrape off anyone that might be trying to take a more inside line to the flags.
It didn't matter. As I turned back, I saw about half a dozen people who had decided that through the goalposts didn't apply to them and had taken a direct line to the first flag, which to me is kind of, well, cheating.
It didn't matter. There was a group of about six of us in the front, and I was the caboose. But the pace felt pretty moderate. Then again, it often does. I can't tell you how many times at half a mile I've been in an A or B group (usually B) and found myself thinking about how pleasant the pace was, only to be dying at a mile and kicking myself. But no, this was hard, but doable. Nobody was pulling away, although the kid I'd marked out of the gate was asserting himself. He had a chance to catch himself some pavement, but I stayed on the grass because it was shorter and the grass was half-frozen. I was able to make it a two man race and we pulled away from the other guys.
I was trying to decide a strategy- I wasn't expecting to be in a two-man race half a mile into the race but I know how rare these chances are for a guy like me and you have to immediately change your mindset and start thinking about winning the race. I wanted to press him, but in a short race, well, if it's a ten-miler, I think you can dog your opponent until they crack. Anything under 5 miles, I don't have the raw mental fortitude to play possum. It's a smarter strategy, but I'd rather be in front and trying to run away than off the shoulder and trying to hold on. I hate that. No matter how well I'm running I feel like I'm barely hanging on.
We traded the lead a few times in the woods, but I never felt like any of the times the kid I was jockeying with was making that terminal pass. I know that feeling- getting passed and knowing it's over, 'it's been nice, but...'
I came out of the woods and decided I wanted to be in first. It's a weakness. It's not just that I want to run my race. I'm not a speed guy. I'm either running from the front or going off the back. And I'd rather be the guy doing the hard work. So I followed Marty on his bike and hauled my ass over the grass. I had a song from Nickelback in my head and I just ran.
Being in the lead is really, really rare for me. It's not easy. One one hand, the foremost thing you have to do is just keep running like nothing's different. You either run your race or you don't. Whether you are first, fifth, or fiftieth, you have to try and maintain a sane pace. That's not to say that maybe you don't go a little harder. But not much.
But it's tough. If you are leading a one-loop road race you follow the pace car and head for the finish line. But this was a first-year cross country course on a course that winds back on itself (plenty of double-headed arrows). Well-marked or not, pace bike in parts and volunteers in others or not, if you make a mistake, so does everyone else. I would HATE to screw up one of Marty's races with some kind of half-brained wrong turn.
The sun was out, there was no one in front of me, and I was trying to run my widest stride. I was running well, I was running cross-country.
I would have loved to have been able to just relax. Nickelback's If Today Was Your Last Day was in my head. I couldn't relax. I just kept plowing along, never looking back. Through the woods, around the fence, and back towards the barn.
Marty says 'Jump the stream.'
I go in full-bore. Jump-schmump. I made a mistake jumping a stream running a race in Stillwater one dark October day when I was 16 years old- and yes, I remember crazy-shit like that- and ever since I go down in, and come back out. Only my foot caught on a root. I took a full header into the ditch.
First rule- your feet never stop moving. Second rule, those things on the end of your wrist- second pair of feet. I grabbed the long grass, hauled myself back to my feet, threw the grass aside, and started running again, glad just not to have been overtaken.
I followed Marty until I realised he was going to ride on top of the hill, but I was headed down.
My feet got really wet as I ran along the stream, but I didn't care. I had to find that last gear and keep moving. Before I knew it I was back in the woods, hauling real ass now, running well.
The rest of the race after the fall was uneventful. I saw I had a chance to break 22, so I worked to the line, and that was it.
Race over. I'd finished before everyone else.
Sweet !
Thanks Marty. And thanks to Mark from Trailheads for the sweet head gear he provided the race winners. I was actually wearing a Trailheads hat during the race, and I got another awesome one today. He's got a lot of great gear, and this is the time of year you need to keep your head warm. He's got a great hat that lets the sweat out and the heat in.
I warmed up with Charlie Hornak, stripped down to my EH gear, and did my strides between the starting line and the goal post- which we are required to pass under. The middle of the football field was pretty muddy, and the mud was about half-frozen. That is a recipe for slipping, so I did quite a few passes at race speed to get my line. I like using picking a line as a warm-up. It keeps me from getting nervous, allows me to do my warm-up, and hopefully gets me off to a good start.
The race started out and it was a typical scrum, some kids that had no business firing out of the blocks at the front, the high school kids that are legitimate working together, and a few older guys like me trying to hang in with the main pack. I was right on the shoulder of the kid I thought looked like the biggest threat. I got the the exact line I wanted- I had to turn my upper body to get my right shoulder clear of the goalpost- basically using it to scrape off anyone that might be trying to take a more inside line to the flags.
It didn't matter. As I turned back, I saw about half a dozen people who had decided that through the goalposts didn't apply to them and had taken a direct line to the first flag, which to me is kind of, well, cheating.
It didn't matter. There was a group of about six of us in the front, and I was the caboose. But the pace felt pretty moderate. Then again, it often does. I can't tell you how many times at half a mile I've been in an A or B group (usually B) and found myself thinking about how pleasant the pace was, only to be dying at a mile and kicking myself. But no, this was hard, but doable. Nobody was pulling away, although the kid I'd marked out of the gate was asserting himself. He had a chance to catch himself some pavement, but I stayed on the grass because it was shorter and the grass was half-frozen. I was able to make it a two man race and we pulled away from the other guys.
I was trying to decide a strategy- I wasn't expecting to be in a two-man race half a mile into the race but I know how rare these chances are for a guy like me and you have to immediately change your mindset and start thinking about winning the race. I wanted to press him, but in a short race, well, if it's a ten-miler, I think you can dog your opponent until they crack. Anything under 5 miles, I don't have the raw mental fortitude to play possum. It's a smarter strategy, but I'd rather be in front and trying to run away than off the shoulder and trying to hold on. I hate that. No matter how well I'm running I feel like I'm barely hanging on.
We traded the lead a few times in the woods, but I never felt like any of the times the kid I was jockeying with was making that terminal pass. I know that feeling- getting passed and knowing it's over, 'it's been nice, but...'
I came out of the woods and decided I wanted to be in first. It's a weakness. It's not just that I want to run my race. I'm not a speed guy. I'm either running from the front or going off the back. And I'd rather be the guy doing the hard work. So I followed Marty on his bike and hauled my ass over the grass. I had a song from Nickelback in my head and I just ran.
Being in the lead is really, really rare for me. It's not easy. One one hand, the foremost thing you have to do is just keep running like nothing's different. You either run your race or you don't. Whether you are first, fifth, or fiftieth, you have to try and maintain a sane pace. That's not to say that maybe you don't go a little harder. But not much.
But it's tough. If you are leading a one-loop road race you follow the pace car and head for the finish line. But this was a first-year cross country course on a course that winds back on itself (plenty of double-headed arrows). Well-marked or not, pace bike in parts and volunteers in others or not, if you make a mistake, so does everyone else. I would HATE to screw up one of Marty's races with some kind of half-brained wrong turn.
The sun was out, there was no one in front of me, and I was trying to run my widest stride. I was running well, I was running cross-country.
I would have loved to have been able to just relax. Nickelback's If Today Was Your Last Day was in my head. I couldn't relax. I just kept plowing along, never looking back. Through the woods, around the fence, and back towards the barn.
Marty says 'Jump the stream.'
I go in full-bore. Jump-schmump. I made a mistake jumping a stream running a race in Stillwater one dark October day when I was 16 years old- and yes, I remember crazy-shit like that- and ever since I go down in, and come back out. Only my foot caught on a root. I took a full header into the ditch.
First rule- your feet never stop moving. Second rule, those things on the end of your wrist- second pair of feet. I grabbed the long grass, hauled myself back to my feet, threw the grass aside, and started running again, glad just not to have been overtaken.
I followed Marty until I realised he was going to ride on top of the hill, but I was headed down.
My feet got really wet as I ran along the stream, but I didn't care. I had to find that last gear and keep moving. Before I knew it I was back in the woods, hauling real ass now, running well.
The rest of the race after the fall was uneventful. I saw I had a chance to break 22, so I worked to the line, and that was it.
Race over. I'd finished before everyone else.
Sweet !
Thanks Marty. And thanks to Mark from Trailheads for the sweet head gear he provided the race winners. I was actually wearing a Trailheads hat during the race, and I got another awesome one today. He's got a lot of great gear, and this is the time of year you need to keep your head warm. He's got a great hat that lets the sweat out and the heat in.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Thanksgiving Day 5k- Y Walk and Run
I'd told several people I was planning to re-doing last year's double- the 5K at 8:30, followed by the Madison 5 mile road race at 10:00 AM. In 2008 I'd run pretty well, with an 18:14 and a 30:16, 2nd in my age group for both races. Neither race was spectacular, but both were adequate.
But I ended up not running the double. Margit had been planning on swimming Thanksgiving morning, but that didn't happen so instead she decided to run the 5K pushing Ian.
We got to the race about 15 minutes before the scheduled start, I watched Ian while she registered and then got in a decent enough warm-up. I'd trained through the race, with a short, high intensity mountain-bike brick on Wednesday, but there was still the thought I might be able to place well- this is a smaller thanksgiving race on roads I know really well. JT was there and I know JT can take me and there were some high school and college kids, but I still thought I might be in the mix.
I selected my initial line really carefully, because the race comes out of the Walsh Intermediate School parking lot and takes a very hard right up against a high kerb just as the road space narrows. I wanted to take the turn first and avoid any jostling- Charlie Hornak told me he and Kerry Arsenault were bumping here after the race.
I got to the turn first, just like I wanted, and it was loud behind me. Almost as soon as I finished the turn, I got passed by one of those guys that actually looked like a runner- tall, thin, running singlet and shorts, neck beads, bushy head of hair. Teenager or first year college kid. I tried to open up the throttle. At this point there was no thought of running a second race, I wanted to find a gear that justified me having been out in front at all. Then I got passed again.
This was the point where I knew for sure I wasn't winning any races this year. Yeah, I'd been looking to maybe steal me some Thanksgiving dessert for my season. Thinking maybe none of the kids had wheels and I could outrun Juan Tolberto- I had beat him last year by a handful of seconds.
But the truth hit. It was cold and I was still not acclimated fully and me and my arm warmers were getting our ass handed to us by real runners. I was in third, then fourth, then sixth, then JT blew by me like I was trying to outrun gravity itself. I'd gone through a mile at 5:30 and the voice of reason- which sounds a lot like my coach- reminded me that 5:30 means I'm running well. That's high 17:30s for me if I can hold myself together. But the idea of winning dying felt like it took something out of me. At one mile and a quarter I felt like a complete poser out there running a road race. I didn't really deserve to be pounding down the road, the short, kind of stocky guy in the tri-gear, feeling like I was going to explode, crash and burn before I hit the cone at the turn-around.
I knew there were more people behind me, bearing down on me. I was running heavy, hell, I am heavy, for a runner anyway, and according to the charts, which are meaningless, I'm just heavy period. I am just not a 5K runner.
I took the cone and there was Kerry, first woman. I wasn't sure I could hold her off. There was Charlie and other people. I started hearing my name- this is my home time after all. I went by Ian and Margit going the other way, just inches between us- the yellow line the only spearation..
I didn't have a cliff-shot. I needed it.
I hit the two mile mark at- 11:00 ?
Second mile, same as the first. What the hell ? Was I falling apart or not ?
Not. The third mile has a little uphill incline section back towards the 'main' road and I hauled every last bit of ass I could. I was still chasing the guys in front of me. It didn't matter they were long gone now. The people behind me ? I didn't care about them. I felt it all starting to click and no one was going to catch me. Oh, they might close on me, but no one was going to close me down.
I opened up my stride, let myself feel like a runner again.
17:39- that's 35 seconds faster than last year, when it was in the upper-50s, when I was better warmed up.
Margit ran 24:00 pushing Ian- beating more than 3/4 of the field.
We didn't get out of there quickly enough to get to Madison, but I didn't care. I'd run the way I'd planned to, as hard as I could, and the three of us had all had a good time, and it was time for family.
I'd survived feeling like I was blowing up. And that was all it was. I really was actually running very well (for a stubby aging triathlete), and I'd let getting housed on my home course get to me. Really, what probably saved me was that JB had 1 and 2 mile clocks, so I knew I was running solid, and that was all I need. Verification that I was doing my job and keeping it steady. 6 of the 8 guys that beat me also beat 17:00 on the clock, and let's be real, I have no business running with the sub-17 crowd.
And that's fine with me. Honest.
But I ended up not running the double. Margit had been planning on swimming Thanksgiving morning, but that didn't happen so instead she decided to run the 5K pushing Ian.
We got to the race about 15 minutes before the scheduled start, I watched Ian while she registered and then got in a decent enough warm-up. I'd trained through the race, with a short, high intensity mountain-bike brick on Wednesday, but there was still the thought I might be able to place well- this is a smaller thanksgiving race on roads I know really well. JT was there and I know JT can take me and there were some high school and college kids, but I still thought I might be in the mix.
I selected my initial line really carefully, because the race comes out of the Walsh Intermediate School parking lot and takes a very hard right up against a high kerb just as the road space narrows. I wanted to take the turn first and avoid any jostling- Charlie Hornak told me he and Kerry Arsenault were bumping here after the race.
I got to the turn first, just like I wanted, and it was loud behind me. Almost as soon as I finished the turn, I got passed by one of those guys that actually looked like a runner- tall, thin, running singlet and shorts, neck beads, bushy head of hair. Teenager or first year college kid. I tried to open up the throttle. At this point there was no thought of running a second race, I wanted to find a gear that justified me having been out in front at all. Then I got passed again.
This was the point where I knew for sure I wasn't winning any races this year. Yeah, I'd been looking to maybe steal me some Thanksgiving dessert for my season. Thinking maybe none of the kids had wheels and I could outrun Juan Tolberto- I had beat him last year by a handful of seconds.
But the truth hit. It was cold and I was still not acclimated fully and me and my arm warmers were getting our ass handed to us by real runners. I was in third, then fourth, then sixth, then JT blew by me like I was trying to outrun gravity itself. I'd gone through a mile at 5:30 and the voice of reason- which sounds a lot like my coach- reminded me that 5:30 means I'm running well. That's high 17:30s for me if I can hold myself together. But the idea of winning dying felt like it took something out of me. At one mile and a quarter I felt like a complete poser out there running a road race. I didn't really deserve to be pounding down the road, the short, kind of stocky guy in the tri-gear, feeling like I was going to explode, crash and burn before I hit the cone at the turn-around.
I knew there were more people behind me, bearing down on me. I was running heavy, hell, I am heavy, for a runner anyway, and according to the charts, which are meaningless, I'm just heavy period. I am just not a 5K runner.
I took the cone and there was Kerry, first woman. I wasn't sure I could hold her off. There was Charlie and other people. I started hearing my name- this is my home time after all. I went by Ian and Margit going the other way, just inches between us- the yellow line the only spearation..
I didn't have a cliff-shot. I needed it.
I hit the two mile mark at- 11:00 ?
Second mile, same as the first. What the hell ? Was I falling apart or not ?
Not. The third mile has a little uphill incline section back towards the 'main' road and I hauled every last bit of ass I could. I was still chasing the guys in front of me. It didn't matter they were long gone now. The people behind me ? I didn't care about them. I felt it all starting to click and no one was going to catch me. Oh, they might close on me, but no one was going to close me down.
I opened up my stride, let myself feel like a runner again.
17:39- that's 35 seconds faster than last year, when it was in the upper-50s, when I was better warmed up.
Margit ran 24:00 pushing Ian- beating more than 3/4 of the field.
We didn't get out of there quickly enough to get to Madison, but I didn't care. I'd run the way I'd planned to, as hard as I could, and the three of us had all had a good time, and it was time for family.
I'd survived feeling like I was blowing up. And that was all it was. I really was actually running very well (for a stubby aging triathlete), and I'd let getting housed on my home course get to me. Really, what probably saved me was that JB had 1 and 2 mile clocks, so I knew I was running solid, and that was all I need. Verification that I was doing my job and keeping it steady. 6 of the 8 guys that beat me also beat 17:00 on the clock, and let's be real, I have no business running with the sub-17 crowd.
And that's fine with me. Honest.
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